


An Apple A Day

by mattsloved1



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-08
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-08-07 12:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7715740
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattsloved1/pseuds/mattsloved1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sherlock and John were young when they met but soon became good friends. Through the years they are there for one another.  A story where two friends become more.  There is fluff, love and apples. :-)</p><p>(Each chapter is at least a decade after the previous one.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to MapleleafCameo and Johnsarmylady for going over this for me. I appreciate your help. :-)

Sherlock twirled a leaf stem between his fingertips. From his spot on the edge of the playground, he frowned at the other kids. Yesterday his class had visited a nearby orchard and it was an event the seven-year-old had been looking forward to for weeks. But a stomachache the same morning had forced him to stay home from school. It had taken him most of the day to feel better but that didn’t stop him from being disappointed.

 

Too focused on feeling sorry for himself, he didn’t notice the new blond student coming his way. It wasn’t until a shadow fell over his face that Sherlock looked up. There, in his worn clothes stood John Watson, an apple in each hand.

 

“What do you want?” Sherlock grumbled from his spot on the grass.

 

John didn’t answer until he had dropped down to the ground as well.

 

“I noticed you weren’t in class yesterday.”

 

Shrugging, Sherlock looked at the dry leaf still in his hand.

 

“Before we left the orchard the owner, Mr. Griffin, let us each take home an apple and since you were home sick, Mrs. Sanders let me ask for an extra one.”

 

Six days ago, John had walked into their classroom for the first time. Used to being teased by the other kids, Sherlock had given him a cursory glance and then almost forgotten the new boy.

 

“So would you like one?” John asked as he held out both hands.

 

Surprise caused Sherlock to think for a moment before John’s earnest expression had him reaching out. Arm fully raised, he paused as he saw John reach down and bite into the apple in his left hand. The boy chewed for a moment, swallowed and then did the same with the second piece of fruit.  Certain he had been the target of a prank, Sherlock was about stand up and stalk off when an apple was thrust in front of his face.

 

Before he could scoff at the piece missing, John silenced him with the words, “Here take that one, it’s sweeter.”

 

Sherlock knew his confusion must have shown because John continued to talk.

 

“Each day you eat the baked goods in your lunch first. My Gran says you must have a sweet tooth which means you’ll want that one.”

 

To say Sherlock was shocked was an understatement. Not only had John noticed him but he had also thought to bring something back for him from the orchard and then given Sherlock the one he would like best.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered, as he took the red apple in hand and sank his teeth into it.  He couldn’t help but smile at the wonderful taste.

 

John grinned.

 

“So, what do you think of Seb?” he asked.

 

“Ugh, he’s an idiot,” Sherlock said as he rolled his eyes.

 

Grinning wider than before, John nodded. “Yeah, he seems a bit ridiculous. He and Tim are always showing off for Mary.”

 

Once again, Sherlock had to admit John Watson surprised him. After all, he’d met very few people who really paid attention to what went on around them. Maybe this John was different.

 

The two boys heard the bell and knew it was time to line up for class. Groaning, they stood up and made their way back. Wanting to talk some more, Sherlock tried to think of something to say but John beat him to it.

 

“We’re supposed to choose partners for our science project this afternoon.”

 

Sherlock nodded when John didn’t continue.

 

“So would you, I mean, would you like to be my partner?”

 

Looking down at the tops of his shoes, Sherlock shrugged as if disinterested and said, “Sure, I guess I could if you want. It might be all right if we worked at my house.”

 

A quick peek at John, and the smile he wore, showed he hadn’t fooled the other boy at all.

 

“Yeah?”

 

Suddenly grateful his mother had forced him to stay home the day before; Sherlock grinned as they continued to walk, “Yeah.”


	2. Ten Years Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are growing up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, much thanks to MLC and JAL for taking the time to read this through! :-)

**Ten years later…**

 

John entered the room he shared with his longtime friend and couldn’t help but roll his eyes.  Sitting at his desk, Sherlock was studying for their final exams and John just knew he hadn’t eaten, probably hadn’t even moved. Without saying a word, John walked over and dropped the clear, plastic container he had brought beside the open textbook.  The noise caused Sherlock to jump slightly before he blinked hard and lifted his head.

 

“John? What are you doing back so soon?”

 

John put his hand on a thin shoulder and gave it a friendly shake. He pointed to the clock on the wall. 

 

“You’ve been a dedicated student,” he teased. “I’ve been gone for just over three hours.” 

Seeing grey eyes widen, John chuckled. “You missed lunch, you know.”

 

Waving a hand, Sherlock dismissed any concerns. “Eating now when there’s studying to be done is a waste of time. I can eat when I’m finished in two days.”

 

“For a genius, you can be really stupid. You know you’ll have more energy and focus better if you eat.” Ignoring the rant he knew was coming, John pointed at the container. “I got you the chopped apple salad you like so much; the one with walnuts and cheese, so eat up!”

 

Sherlock raised an eyebrow, “John.”

 

John stared right back, “Sherlock.”

 

“John.”

 

“Sherlock.”

 

The staring continued for 23.5 seconds until Sherlock finally sighed, grabbed the container and some utensils and started to eat. 

 

John tossed his messenger bag, and then himself, onto his bed.

 

Sherlock couldn’t help but smile fondly when he bit into an apple and thought of how the two had met a decade before. In fact, he sometimes found it hard to believe there was a time when he hadn’t known John. He was always there to defend Sherlock against others but he also wasn’t afraid to call him on his shit (as John said) when it was necessary.

 

Taking another bite, he tried to ignore the warmth now commonplace when it came to John. For the past few months, Sherlock had become aware that the feelings he had held for his friend had evolved into a more romantic nature. Not that anyone besides Mycroft, his older brother, knew. And the infuriating bastard had only guessed because the boys had recently visited for Mummy’s birthday. Sherlock had called his brother a moron and stormed out of the room but later, after giving it some thought, he had to admit Mycroft was correct.

 

Of course, Sherlock hadn’t told John about his feelings and had no intention of doing so. John had never shown any real interest in the same sex, he seemed far too captivated with large breasted girls, and Sherlock was not about to do anything that might jeopardize their friendship.

 

The snapping of fingers brought him out of his thoughts.

 

“You with me again?” John asked, smirking.

 

Locking the door on his traitorous feelings, Sherlock fell into their easy camaraderie with a smirk of his own.

 

“In order for me to be with you again, I would have had to have left and yet I appear to still be in our room.”

 

Chuckling, John stood and walked over to snatch an apple slice, “Smart arse.”

 

He took a small bite, chewed and then offered the rest to Sherlock who opened his mouth as John said, “I bet that one’s the sweetest.”

 

Sherlock had a difficult time eating after John’s fingers grazed his upper lip but he swallowed hard before agreeing. “Yeah, I think it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I almost forgot to post today! lol


	3. Ten More Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things will never be the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much thanks to JAL and MLC. :-)

**Ten years later…**

 

The door opened halfway and Sherlock leaned in, straining to hear any sound of John. It didn’t matter what he was doing as long as the man was in their shared living space on Montague Street. There and not being shipped out. The two men had argued for weeks when John first signed up with the army. Sherlock had even pleaded for John to reconsider but it was no use. Doctor Watson was determined to make a difference and there was no changing his mind. The stubbornness he had always loved in his friend became the thing Sherlock hated most.

 

After a long period of silence, they had looked at each other over their tiny kitchen table and sighed.

 

“You’ll hardly notice I’m gone after a while,” John had said. “We can email one another and I’ll be home on leave.” He paused. “This is something I need to do. I can’t explain it any more than I already have.”

  
Inside his mind, Sherlock railed at John once more. Told him how absurd it was that he wouldn’t notice his best friend was gone. That a necessary part of him would be missing. Outwardly, he ran a finger over the rim of his teacup, nodded, smiled faintly and said, “Of course.”

 

Nothing else was said about the matter. What was the point?

 

On the day John had to leave, Sherlock went out early to check on his homeless network because a full morning of wanting to grab hold of John and never let him go was not an option. His plan to be home shortly before the expected cab failed when an accident caused stopped traffic and delayed him.  He and John hadn’t exchanged texts since the day before but he had thought perhaps…  The reality was that John was gone and the flat felt empty in a way Sherlock was certain would crush him.

 

Part of him wanted to dash back out and go to Bart’s, his parents’ house, anywhere as long as he could avoid the truth for a little while longer. He knew it was no use though so he let his hand drop from the knob and the door closed behind him. His coat was soon flung over John’s spot on the sofa (might as well start now). Sherlock glanced towards the kitchen and froze. There, on their small kitchen table was a cake. But not just any cake, it was Sherlock’s favorite: cinnamon apple cake. Just in front of it lay a piece of paper folded in half. He walked over and, hands shaking, opened the paper.

 

_Dear Sherlock,_

_Leaving you is, perhaps, the most difficult thing I’ve ever had to do.  Ever since the first day on the playground when I gave you an apple and you agreed to be my science partner, I knew you would be someone important.  Yes, you can be an arrogant git but you’re also the smartest person I know and care deeply for those lucky enough to get close to you._

_I know you feel like I’m abandoning you, don’t roll or shake your head because I know you do. But do you remember the day you told me you’d found what you were supposed to do? How you were going to be a consulting detective? That’s how I feel about using my skills in the army. I know I’m a damn good doctor and if I can help men and women who might not have survived otherwise, then I have to go._

_I promise to do my best to come home safe and I want you to promise to take care of yourself until I do. This means eating and sleeping each day to help fuel that brain of yours. Despite what you think your body is not only transport so please have some back up when you go after the bad guys. A call to Lestrade is not you telling the world you can’t handle it on your own._

_Don’t forget to call your mum and dad every once in a while, they worry, and remember Mycroft is showing he cares too when he is his usual overbearing self. Though I secretly think it’s fine to tell him to bugger off._

_And lastly, remember this next bit even if you ignore and delete everything I’ve written so far (Though I hope you don’t!); know that I am in love with you, William Sherlock Scott Holmes. I have loved you since we were sixteen years old and we spent New Years with my Nan. That night, as everyone in the room drank their champagne, I took one look at you, saw the smile you were sending me and knew I wanted to be with you always._

_I know that was eleven years ago and I haven’t said a word but I was so afraid of losing one of the most important people in my life so thought it was best to keep silent. But now, with me leaving, you have to know. Not because I expect anything from you but because, in case something **does** happen to me, I don’t want you to be ignorant of the fact that someone in this world loves you as I do. That I am so grateful knowing you these past twenty years and plan on many decades more. If you decide you just want to remain friends that’s fine.  As long as you’re still in my life, I’m happy. _

_I love you,_

_Your John_

 

Sherlock was surprised when he looked at the paper and saw wet spots.  Raising his right hand, he wiped away the tears on his cheeks.

 

John loved him. Him.

 

A choked laugh broke from him when he thought of the miracle he had been given. But the smile on his face disappeared when he realized John didn’t know his love was reciprocated. That Sherlock had loved him for a decade.

 

He texted Mycroft. 

 

_Where is John?_

 

Less than a minute later a response came through.  

 

_Where you cannot follow, even with my help._

 

Sherlock growled in frustration. He would have to wait to see John but he could still text him.

 

_I love you too. Have for ten years. SH_

He fidgeted as he waited for a response. His phone finally buzzed.

 

_Really? Brilliant! Fantastic! Amazing!  :-)_

 

He grinned at John’s enthusiastic response.

 

_So articulate, Doctor. SH_

 

Again a response soon arrived.

_I am grateful to know my amorous feelings towards you are returned in full. Doctor J. Watson._

 

Sherlock was grateful no one was around to hear him giggle.

 

_Impressive. A three syllable word. SH_

 

Long fingers ran over John’s next response.

_You’re lucky I love you, you git.  ;-)_

“Yes, yes I am,” he whispered.

 

Another text came through.

 

_Sorry, love. I’ve got to go. Tell Mrs. Jenkins thanks for helping me with the cake yesterday, I’ll write as soon as I can and remember, I love you!  John_

Sherlock’s smile faltered but he took a deep breath.

 

_I love you too. Always._

 

He waited a few minutes but there was no other response. Deciding he wouldn’t want John’s present to go to waste, Sherlock cut himself a large piece of cake. He carried it into the living room, took a seat on the sofa and turned on the news. A glance at his coat still covering John’s spot made his throat tighten for a moment. Sherlock straightened his shoulders. They could do this.

 

There was no other choice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not quite finished with chapter four (real life) but I hope to be done so I can still post on time tomorrow. Also, chapter five might not be written but I know what I'd like to happen. I don't think the boys will argue. :-)


	4. Another Ten Years

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another change in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been forever (3 1/2 months) since I promised two more chapters. To quote Moriarty: Did you miss me? lol
> 
> Many thanks to JAL who read this over months ago (when all it needed was a proper ending) and MLC who read it over then as well as today.

**Ten years later**

The television droned on in the background, ignored by Sherlock. His head rested on John's lap while the doctor's fingers carded through dark curls. A few months earlier, John's luck in Afghanistan had run out when a bullet found his left shoulder. He had woken up in a hospital, confused to find Sherlock dozing, his head resting on the bed beside John's hand. The man was a constant presence from that moment on.

When John was given the news of early retirement, Sherlock held his love as he cried for what could no longer be. His company and tales of recent cases helped John as he worked through physical therapy and transitioned to civilian life sooner than expected. It was by chance that Sherlock had met Mrs. Hudson once more and the news she now owned property and was looking for tenants, meant a different home as they started a new chapter in their lives.

Not wanting to give up his career completely, John did locum work for a surgery when he wasn't solving crimes with Sherlock. Just a few days before, they'd solved yet another case for D.I. Lestrade. The cabbie terrorizing London was now lying in a morgue, thanks to John. He had arrived just in time, even if in the wrong building, to save Sherlock from his own arrogance.

 _"_ _I chose the right pill, John! I would have been fine!"_

 _"_ _You can't know for sure! You've even admitted to guessing sometimes!"_

A preoccupied Anthea had given them a lift home, sitting between the two men who were determined to silently stare out of their respective windows. It wasn't until they were back home that they talked, the conversation ending with Sherlock promising to be more careful.

Sherlock was startled out of sleep when the television turned off. He felt the words, "Time for bed," whispered against his left temple. John chuckled as Sherlock shook his head and tried to bury himself against the doctor's stomach.

He gave his love a nudge and said, "Go on. I'm going to put the dishes in the sink, turn off the lights, and then I'll be right behind."

Giving a dramatic groan, Sherlock stood from the sofa and moved towards their bedroom. Once he was out of sight, John took a breath to steady the nerves he now felt, did his few chores and headed down the hallway. He stopped in the bedroom doorway and watched.

Still fully dressed, Sherlock sat on his side of the bed, fingers running over the apple John had left a few hours before. It was his favorite and had been polished to a shine but the thing that captivated Sherlock was the ribbon tied around the stem. Or rather, the white gold rings held in place by a bow. When Sherlock touched the tips of his thumbs to the rings, John decided to speak.

"Do you like them?"

Startled, Sherlock turned.

"I did the bow at least a dozen times before I was happy with it. But I bet you know that already."

Apple still clasped in his hands, Sherlock smiled. "Yes."

John grinned. "I want to grow old with you in a cottage somewhere after we retire so you can keep bees as you've always wanted. But you know that too, don't you?"

"I'd hoped."

John walked across the room, sat next to his genius, put his hands over longer ones and said, "Don't you remember what I wrote in the letter I left you years ago? I said I wanted to be with you always."

Sherlock nodded, the lump in his throat too large to respond otherwise.

"Well, that hasn't changed. In fact, ten years later, I'm more determined to keep you and you know how stubborn I can be."

Both men chuckled.

John untied the bow, removed the ribbon and rings from the stem and re-tied it before setting them to the side. Smirk on his face, John took the apple from Sherlock's hands and bit into it.

After swallowing, he lifted it up so Sherlock could take a bite, "Definitely a sweet one."

Using a newly freed hand, Sherlock knocked the apple away before taking hold of John's face. Kissing lets him taste the apple John had eaten moments before but it's mixed with a flavor that is all John and Sherlock thinks it might be the most perfect thing ever. Finally, needing to breathe, he pulls away.

John is taking a deep breath too and then chuckling.

"So was I right, husband-to-be?"

Heart pounding at the realization that he is really going to be John Watson's spouse; Sherlock dives in for another taste.

"Absolutely."


	5. Twenty Years Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Many thanks to MapleleafCameo for looking this over for me. :-)

**Twenty years later**

It was a blustery day and John watched the trees sway back and forth, grateful to be inside where it was warm.  He stepped away from the window, pausing at the desk he shared with Sherlock. Laying a hand on the other man’s left shoulder; he placed a kiss on top of the graying curls. A quiet, “Mmmm,” could be heard.   

“Almost done updating your journal for the day?” he asked, stepping towards his chair by the fire. 

“Yes, just writing down what I’ve done so far. Need to make sure the bees will ready for winter.” 

John took up the scarf he had been working on for the past three days.  A few months earlier, he had tried to learn how to knit as his Nan years before. Ready to give up, he changed his mind when Mrs. Fitzharding, their neighbor, had stepped in and offered to show him how to knit with a round loom instead. He’d been amazed of all the things she had made, listened to her advice, looked at the websites she had sent him and practiced on the loom she had let him borrow.

John had then purchased a set for himself and made both Lestrade and Molly a scarf for Christmas in colors he knew they liked. Now he was finishing a lovely grey and blue striped one for Sherlock. So caught up in his project he almost missed the sound of the oven timer.  Putting his work to the side, John headed to the kitchen, pulled out the apple pie and set it on the table to cool. 

As he started another row, Sherlock sat across from him.  “All set then?” he asked. 

Taking his reading glasses off, Sherlock nodded.  “Yes, they have plenty of ventilation and feed. Tomorrow I’ll clean all of my spare equipment and store it away until next year.”    
  
“Good, good.” 

Sherlock hummed, closed his eyes, and leaned his head against the back of his chair.

“It’s been a while since lunch.  We should start thinking about what to do for dinner.” John saw Sherlock open his mouth, “And don’t tell me you won’t be hungry.”

The open mouth closed.  John smirked, knowing the battle was won. At least for now.

Time slipped by in comfortable silence. The sun was starting to set when John tied his last knot and cut the yarn. He looked up to see Sherlock had dozed off while reading his new Beekeeper’s Quarterly.  John put his supplies to the side but took the finished scarf.  The brush of his leg against his husband’s caused Sherlock to wake with a snort and John couldn’t help but grin.

“Good evening, sleeping beauty,” he teased, tossing the scarf onto Sherlock’s lap.  “Give this a try while I figure out dinner.” 

A glance in the nearly empty pantry had him calling out, “Take away?”

Turning, John saw Sherlock just behind, knitted wool wrapped snug around his neck. 

“Fine,” he answered, reaching up to remove his scarf. His hands froze when his eyes looked towards the kitchen table.

John watched his husband still. “What?”

Instead of answering, Sherlock just grinned as he reached into a drawer and grabbed two forks. 

“That’s not what I had in mind for dinner,” John complained but by the time Sherlock was seated and about to take a bite, he was reaching for the second fork. 

Minutes later, and with half the pie nearly gone, both men leaned back in their chairs, content.

“Good,” Sherlock sighed as he stood, gathered up the dirty forks and put them in the sink.

“So good,” John agreed.

“Apple pie is my favorite.”  
  
John smiled fondly. “I know.”   
  
“You’ve always known, haven’t you? Even before we first spoke.”  Sherlock felt arms encircle his waist and leaned into the chest behind him.

The words, “my first day at the new school I saw this curly haired kid tell snotty Seb Wilkes what he’d been doing the night before instead of finishing his homework. Couldn’t help but think, he could be interesting,” were spoken against his left temple. 

Sherlock chuckled, “the first day we spoke I thought, this new kid might be different. He actually saw me.”    
  
John stepped away to turn his love around.  “I’ve always seen you.”

Closing his eyes, Sherlock whispered, “I know.”

John drew the face he had loved for most of his life down, taking his time as he kissed first each eyelid, then a cheek and temple before taking Sherlock’s breath away in a passion filled kiss. Even after decades of loving one another, they couldn’t get close enough. Finally, when breath was a necessity, John pulled back. 

“How about we take this into the bedroom, and then later I’ll cook us eggs and toast for dinner.”

Sherlock tugged John impatiently towards their room. As the door closed he couldn’t help but ask, “Can we finish the apple pie for dessert?”

Their laughter filled the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a ridiculously long time since I started this fluffy fic but now it’s finished. :-)
> 
> The few words about beekeeping mentioned came from the monthly checklist on the Essex Beekeepers’ Association. Oh, and there is such a thing as The Beekeeper’s Quarterly. I felt Sherlock would get it.

**Author's Note:**

> My plan is to post a chapter a day. I already have the first three finished and looked over and am working on the fourth. :-)


End file.
